Make-Believe Honeymoon

by Vivi Holt

  And she really did want to impress him – he might have more work for her when they got back to Atlanta, and perhaps she could start getting some money rolling in sooner than expected. She had Paul’s pension and death benefits, but the bills had been piling up since he died, and she’d put most of what was left into a trust in Scott’s name for college. Besides that, she wanted to stand on her own two feet, find a way to support her and Scott on her own.

  The way Paul had died – shot by a fellow officer because he’d uncovered corruption within his unit – made her sick to her stomach every time she thought about it. Even knowing that the perpetrator would spend the next few years in jail, she couldn’t shake the anxiety she’d felt every time she’d stepped out of the house, took Scott to school, or walked the beat in Chicago.

  The money she received from his death reminded her of it all, and even though she’d accepted it, she didn’t like thinking about how it had come to be hers. She tried not to think about his infidelities either – she’d rather remember him as the husband and father she’d thought he was, before she learned the truth.

  The pool deck bustled with people eager for their first swim or poolside nap. Most seemed to be escaping the last gasp of a cold winter, and smiled as they dipped a toe before diving in or lay on their stomachs on loungers, snoozing away.

  She couldn’t help feeling just as happy and carefree as they did. It had been so long since she’d had nothing to do, no one to take care of. Paul’s death had been a kick in the gut, and even being married to a cop, there was no way to plan for the possibility of being a widow. It never occurred to her Paul might die – he’d seemed invincible. She’d fallen hard for him and worshipped him like he hung the sky. But he wasn’t invincible – no one was. And he sure wasn’t perfect.

  She sighed, put on a pair of sunglasses and scanned the deck, finally spotting an empty chair beneath an umbrella. She hurried to claim it, grabbing a clean towel from a neatly folded stack along the way. Sitting down, she straightened her hat, pulled her Kindle from her shoulder bag and settled in to start a thriller she’d ordered before leaving home. It had been months since she’d read a book – she used to love reading, but the joy had gone out of a lot of things over the past few years.

  After two chapters, she was hot and ready to take a dip in the pool a few feet away. She put her things away, undid her sarong and padded over to the edge to sit on the side and gently splash her feet in the refreshing water. Finally she slid in, holding her breath as the water washed over her head. It was colder than she’d expected, and took her breath away.

  When Jessie emerged, she gulped air and smoothed her hair back. She hadn’t felt so relaxed, so at peace with herself and the world, for a long time. This trip was just what she’d needed – even if it was a working trip.

  5

  Callum, having changed into board shorts, a T-shirt and a Braves cap to blend in, surveyed the throng of vacationers. Where was Jessie?

  He’d walked the halls of the ship the past half hour without success and was now outside, marveling at how many travelers had headed straight for the swimming pools as soon as the liner pulled out of port. There was no sign of Alton Meer, and he’d grown frustrated looking for him. It was time for another plan. He’d decided to network with a few crew members, hoping he could draw information from them. It seemed logical to include Jessie, since having two of them working on the task would produce results more quickly than one. But first he had to find her.

  Finally he spotted her head, hair darkened with water, bobbing at the edge of one pool. “Hey, Jessie!”

  She turned to face him with a smile. “Come on in, the water’s fine,” she replied with a laugh.

  Her smile was infectious. Callum knelt poolside, sat and swung his feet into the water beside her. “Feels good.” He grinned.

  She nodded. “It’s divine. You should get in.”

  “I will. Just wanted to run something by you first.” He leaned down so he could whisper. “I’ve been trying to find out which room Alton Meer is in. I haven’t seen him yet and it’s possible he’s holed up in his cabin, waiting for things to quiet down before he comes out. Or maybe he and the new missus are having quality time.” He winked. “Either way, he’s making it hard on me.”

  She smirked. “I found out what room he’s in.”

  His brow furrowed. “What? How?”

  Her cheeks colored, but her gaze didn’t falter. “I flirted with the front desk manager.”

  “Ah … well, which room is it?”

  “1326. Three doors away from ours.”

  “That’s great. Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “I saw it myself.”

  That was good news, though he was a little annoyed that she’d discovered the target’s whereabouts without him. Still, it showed her skill – a good sign, if he was willing to set his ego aside. “Well … thanks. Granted, my plan was for you to just pretend to be my wife – I’d do the investigating and let you know when I need help. I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clear.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “No, I wasn’t aware that was your plan. Is it still your plan? Am I just decoration? ‘Cause I thought a former Navy SEAL would be all about teamwork.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

  He held up his hands to placate her. “No offense was meant – I’m just used to working alone, that’s all.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Wow, she wasn’t going to give an inch. “I would add, you and I are supposed to be newlyweds. If you start flirting with every guy on the boat, our cover will be blown before we’ve even started. Excuse me.” Callum stood and walked away, though he could feel her eyes boring holes in the back of his head. She wasn’t happy with him, he knew, but he really did work better on his own. He didn’t need her investigating his case without him.

  Callum hit Enter and the search results popped up on his laptop screen. The movement of the cruise ship on the ocean’s surface was barely perceptible. They’d had fine weather so far for the trip and the forecast looked good for the next few days.

  He clicked on the first result, an article from the Atlanta Chronicle about Alton inheriting his father’s multi-million-dollar estate and how it had shocked the local business community. His brow furrowed as he scrolled through it. Everything in the piece matched up with what Katrina had said – that it didn’t make a lot of sense, given Alton’s mother Susan hadn’t been married to Kyle for long and was now deceased; that Alton was an adult when they married; that Kyle’s stepson was rarely seen with the couple and had a life of his own.

  He skimmed an article in the Georgia Times about Kyle Callahan’s death – a heart attack, when he was only fifty-seven. He’d been in good health and his death was a shock to his family. Susan’s death the previous year had been from natural causes.

  Callum combed his fingers through his hair and sighed. So what was the story? Why would an intelligent, successful man like Kyle Callahan overlook his biological children in his final will and bequeath his entire estate to a stepson he didn’t seem to have much relationship with? Maybe he needed to find out more about that holographic will – did it really hold up under scrutiny?

  He kept reading – and caught a break. He knew one of the police officers quoted in the article: Detective Jim McIntosh. That might give him an in. He unplugged his cell phone from its charger and tapped in the number for Atlanta PD’s criminal investigations division.

  As he held it to his ear, Jessie came in, wearing her pale blue bikini, a wraparound white skirt with a lace trim and a glare aimed at him. He gave her a quick wave before turning his back. He’d have to keep his distance from her if he was going to remain professional. The spark between them was almost palpable, and she’d already stepped on his investigation once.

  “Criminal Investigations, McIntosh.”

  “Hey, Jim – Callum McKenzie here. I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”

  “Callum, good to hear your voice. It’s a favor you’re after,
huh? What a change.”

  Callum chuckled. “I’ve done my fair share of favors for you, Jim.”

  “Don’t I know it? So what are you looking for?”

  “Do you remember much about the Kyle Callahan will? Died a few months back, holographic will, left everything to a stepson? Anyway, Kyle’s sister hired me to look into it for her, and I wanted to ask about the will itself. Did your guys down at the lab run any tests on it?” Jim’s name in the article meant someone on the force must have followed a hunch and looked into that at the time of Kyle’s death.

  “Oh yeah, I remember that one. Odd situation for sure. The boys down at the lab ran tests and concluded it was written by Kyle Callahan and not under duress. It was dated after the will held by his attorney, so the judge upheld it. Nothing else he could do.”

  Callum’s brow furrowed and he rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Right. Well, that’s all I wanted to know for now. As far as you guys are concerned, it was the last will written by Kyle Callahan before his death and it was legal.”

  “That about sums it up. Of course, the whole thing stank to high heaven. I figured the sister wouldn’t let it lie – she wasn’t happy at the time, but she was grieving too. His kids were upset as well, but they didn’t make too much of a stink about it. Even so, all of us on the force believed Alton Meer was an unlikely heir.”

  “So you think there’s more to it than it seems?”

  “I couldn’t prove it, but yeah. If you ever met Alton Meer, I’m sure you’d agree. He’s a little weird, not the type you’d expect a man’s man like Callahan to take to. But maybe he saw something the rest of us didn’t. It happens.” Jim laughed.

  “And what about Kyle’s death? I read it was a heart attack, but what did your gut tell you at the time?”

  Jim sighed. “We did have doubts about the cause of death. There was no history of heart disease, even with regular checkups by his doctor. No ill health, no complaints about chest pain, nothing like that. He was in good health. So when the will turned up out of the blue the way it did, it made us all think.”

  “I would think so. Did Alton have an alibi?”

  “Airtight. He was at a Hawks basketball game, and there’s actual footage of him on the broadcast. He was with two friends, both of whom confirmed his story, and neither of them seemed the dishonest type. We assumed if Alton was involved, he had to have a partner, but we never turned up any evidence of one. Everything points to a heart attack, and that’s what the medical examiner ruled.”

  Callum finished the phone call and hung up, Jim’s voice still echoing in his ears – everyone was talking about it … an unlikely heir … it made us all think. He typed in another search, this time for Alton’s mother Susan, but discovered only a few articles. The first was a report of her wedding day, with photos of the happy couple. One had Alton in the background, lurking behind a shrub, his eyes fixed on Kyle and Susan. He studied the image – something about the man just didn’t look right.

  He found one about her death off the Georgia coast, just after Christmas a years ago. They were fishing near Jekyll Island, where Kyle had a vacation home, and a sudden squall had them all scrambling to secure the boat and get turned toward shore. Susan fell overboard, and her body was never recovered, not even after an extensive air and sea search once the weather had calmed.

  Callum sat back in his chair and scratched his chin. Both Alton and Kyle were on the boat at the time of the accident, and according to the writer of the article the local police had ruled out any suspicious circumstances. Still, the lack of a body bothered him, and the timing – only married two years, just a year before her husband’s demise – did get his attention.

  “How’s it going?” asked Jessie.

  He turned to see her holding a glass of juice, the straw protruding at an odd angle, and smiled. “Just looking into Alton Meer. Some things don’t add up.”

  She sat on the bed and readjusted the straw. “Oh? Like what?”

  “Well, he wasn’t close to Kyle. He was an adult when Kyle married Susan. Then after two years she dies in a boating accident near Jekyll Island, body never found. A year later, Kyle dies of a heart attack and this handwritten will shows up leaving everything to Alton. Kyle was a successful businessman, and already had a will on file with his attorney that named his sister and his children as heirs. Would it make sense that someone so fastidious and successful would change his will without telling his blood relatives or his lawyer?”

  “It does sound fishy.”

  “Yeah, I think so too. I mean, any or all of those things could be faked, right?”

  She nodded and crossed her long, tanned legs. “Right. Though it would be work.”

  Callum swallowed and looked around, letting his eyes relax. “I just spoke to a friend at the Atlanta PD – they investigated the will, ran tests on it and everything, and it’s legit.”

  Jessie finished her juice, one eyebrow arched and a smile threatening to emerge. Something about her was so childlike at times, yet at other times she presented herself as very mature. The mixture of innocence and sophistication was wreaking havoc on his hormones. Furthermore, she wasn’t some airhead – she was an ex-Chicago beat cop and a single mom, and you had to be tough and competent to do either job, let alone both. Maybe he should let her do some of the work. “So what are you thinking?”

  “Same as you – that something’s up – but that we need proof.” She set her glass on the desk. “I’m going to take a shower and change. You want to grab some dinner together?”

  He glanced at his laptop. He still had research to do, then planned on tailing Alton the rest of the night – if he could find him. Jessie had been irritated with him but apparently didn’t hold a grudge, a trait he found attractive. His mother could hold a grudge until her shoulders stooped under the weight of it. He couldn’t fall for someone like that, not after watching what her bitterness did to his father and their marriage. “Umm …”

  “Come on. We have to follow the target anyway. I’d like a chance to prove to you that I can be more of an asset than just a pretty face. And this is a honeymoon cruise – we should at least pretend we’re having a good time, or we’ll look suspicious.” She grinned, her hands on her hips.

  He nodded. “Okay. We can find out where he’s eating and sit close, tail him openly. We can play the honeymooning couple, and even if he is up to something – which we still can’t prove – he might let his guard down. He’s on his honeymoon as well, he’s relaxed, we’re sailing through open waters, and Kyle died three months ago. By now he should believe he has nothing to worry about. And his wife should be there with him, so we can get a good look at her. I tried to find out more about her and came up empty. We don’t even know her name.”

  “I know – even the guest log at the front desk listed her as ‘Mrs. Meer, no first name. You’d think the bride of Atlanta’s newest millionaire would be a little more visible.” Jessie disappeared into the bathroom.

  The sound of the shower drifted out to Callum, and he shook his head to stop his mind from going there – he couldn’t think of her that way. She was his colleague, nothing more, even if she did have the prettiest eyes. But he chuckled when he heard her burst into song – Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You.” Or maybe it was Dolly Parton’s, he wasn’t sure. Either way, it was sappy and off-key and he enjoyed hearing her sing it despite himself.

  Jessie put the finishing touches on her makeup and regarded her reflection in the mirror. Her mother always told her she wore too much, but it was a way to express her personality. She’d always worn her blue uniform working the beat, with minimal makeup and her hair pulled into a tight ponytail or bun. But when she wasn’t on duty, she liked to show off her unique style.

  She ran her hands down the sides of her little black dress. She hadn’t worn it since Paul died – it’d been his favorite. It didn’t hug her curves quite the way it used to – with all the stress, she’d lost weight over the past few years – but she thou
ght she still looked nice in it. It was sexier than she was used to dressing these days.

  More than a police officer, a widow, a friend, a daughter or anything else the last three years, she was a mom. Any attempt to be stylish fell way down her list of priorities – behind baseball practice, guitar lessons, play dates, school runs, homework, dirty dishes, laundry and everything else that filled her time after she got home from work. But Scott wasn’t here now and she could take the opportunity to dress up and enjoy herself.

  Still, she missed him – and not just him. Her mom had become such a support to her over the last few weeks. They’d always been close, but now she was her best friend. The realization brought tears to her eyes. When had that happened? Some time recently, between the phone calls at all hours of the day and night, the tears, the commiserations. She was grateful they’d had this opportunity, after Dad, after Paul. It was just the three of them now. She wanted Scott to get to know his grandmother, and her mom to cherish her grandson even more than she already did.

  Jessie took a deep breath to steady herself. Now was not the time to get sentimental – she had work to do, even if it was just as arm candy. She finished dressing, put her toiletries away and folded her clothes over her arm. She left the bathroom and saw Callum outside on the deck with both hands on the railing, his arms straight and his gaze unwavering into the darkness where the horizon had been only two hours earlier.

  By the time she’d finished putting her things away, he’d come inside and looked her over her. She felt her cheeks warm. “The shower’s free,” she said.

  He nodded. “You look nice.”

  She smiled. “Thanks. It feels good to wash the chlorine off.”

  Callum headed for the shower, and soon steam seeped from under the bathroom door.

  She remembered his words from earlier that day, how he didn’t think he needed her help and expected only that she play her part, not investigate the case with him. It wasn’t what she’d heard him say when he offered her the job. She frowned, tugged a package of gum from her bag, tossed two pieces into her mouth and chewed forcefully. She was a former police officer, not a fashion model. If she’d wanted to be an actress, she would’ve gone to drama school instead of police academy. Why had he hired her if all he wanted was some bimbo?